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Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Red Romance

For long, the Naxalite in news was recognisable by the gun. But the more insidious version of Naxalism has never needed a rifle. It has thrived in varsity classrooms and newspaper and magazine columns, fostered by men and women sympathetic to it. These academics and other members of the so-called intelligentsia have long enjoyed their status as ‘respectable dissenters’ even when their politics offered intellectual alibis for Naxals carrying guns. Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s recent...

Red Romance

For long, the Naxalite in news was recognisable by the gun. But the more insidious version of Naxalism has never needed a rifle. It has thrived in varsity classrooms and newspaper and magazine columns, fostered by men and women sympathetic to it. These academics and other members of the so-called intelligentsia have long enjoyed their status as ‘respectable dissenters’ even when their politics offered intellectual alibis for Naxals carrying guns. Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s recent Independence Day warning about “dimaagi Naxals” should therefore not be dismissed as another political label. His larger point was that an insurgency does not survive on ammunition alone. It survives on ideas and people willing to make violence appear morally fashionable. The most revealing feature of India’s Maoist movement was never simply its brutality. It was the strange attraction it exercised over sections of the metropolitan Left elite. The Naxalite with an AK-47 could be transformed into a romantic revolutionary while the policeman he killed became an instrument of an oppressive state. This was not merely naïveté. At its ugliest, it was the intellectual laundering of political violence. The fantasy of the romantic revolutionary has always been seductive. In this narrative, amplified through sympathetic media priding itself on telling ‘truth to power,’ India was not a constitutional democracy struggling with inequality and corruption but an inherently illegitimate state waiting to be overthrown. In the minds of this elite Left, Maoist violence has often been recast as resistance while attacks on infrastructure as blows against capitalism. The armed overthrow of the Indian republic was the liberation they craved for. Some of India’s most celebrated intellectuals have flirted dangerously close to that moral inversion. The issue here is whether intellectual prestige can be used to sanitise an ideology whose practitioners have murdered civilians, policemen and public servants and terrorised some of India’s poorest districts. A university cannot be the place where Maoist romanticism acquires the legitimacy of a fashionable campus cause. Professors who turn armed insurgents into heroic revolutionaries are not merely exercising academic freedom. If they knowingly excuse violence, they are helping to construct the moral vocabulary that makes violence possible. Let’s be clear here. A professor who criticises the Indian state is not a Naxal while a journalist who exposes state excesses is not an enemy of India. But an intellectual who repeatedly excuses, glorifies or rationalises political violence cannot hide behind the word ‘dissent.’ India has paid an enormous price for the Maoist fantasy. Thousands have died. Entire regions were held back by fear while development was obstructed. The people supposedly being liberated were often the first to suffer. The armed Naxal is now being pushed towards extinction. But the Indian republic cannot afford to leave behind the romantic mythology that made the gun respectable. A democracy can tolerate dissent. It should never be expected to tolerate the glorification of those who seek its violent destruction.

When Thailand Turned Disruption into Hospitality

Whatever the political situation, tourists would not be allowed to suffer.

Having more than 30 years of experience in the travel industry, I have witnessed countless memorable moments. Travelling across the globe has not only allowed me to explore beautiful destinations but also to meet many wonderful people who have enriched my life in meaningful ways. Every journey carries a story, a lesson, and sometimes a moment that stays with you forever.


In this first part of my article, I have shared one such true incident from my travels—an experience that deeply touched my heart and left a lasting impression on my life.


Thailand Tours

It was meant to be just another Thailand tour. That year, we were conducting nearly two Thailand tours every month. The itinerary was familiar, the arrangements smooth, and the excitement predictable. Nothing about it suggested that it would become one of the most unforgettable chapters of my life. But sometimes, travel teaches you lessons that no guidebook ever can.


To understand what unfolded, a little background is necessary. Thailand follows a constitutional monarchy, much like the United Kingdom. However, in Thailand, the king is not merely a constitutional head — he is deeply respected and emotionally revered by the people. His word carries immense moral weight.


At that time, Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was seen as dynamic and bold. Yet many believed he did not show the monarchy the reverence it deserved. When he sold his billion-dollar business empire to a Singapore-based company, public resentment intensified. Political unrest had already been brewing for months. The nation was divided into two visible factions — popularly known as the Yellow Shirts and the Pink Shirts.


We arrived in Thailand on 20th November. Our tour covered Pattaya and Bangkok, as usual. However, on the very day of our arrival, I heard that King Bhumibol Adulyadej had dismissed Prime Minister Thaksin while he was on an official visit to the United States. The military had taken control.


In Thailand, such developments were not entirely unheard of. So initially, there was no panic. We continued with our itinerary calmly.


Then came 22nd November

Thousands of Yellow Shirt protesters occupied the international airports of Bangkok, Phuket, and Krabi. Roads leading to the airports were blocked. Government buildings were surrounded. The situation escalated rapidly. And then came the news—both Bangkok airports were shut down.


Initially, we believed it would last a day or two. Surely the authorities would restore order. Surely flights would resume soon.


But this was not a spontaneous protest. It was organised, determined, and well prepared. The protesters had tents, food supplies, and everything needed for a prolonged stay. It became clear that this situation would not end quickly. Our return was scheduled for 24th November.


Suddenly, two heavy questions stood before me — how would I take 26 people back to India? And where would I accommodate them safely if the shutdown continues?


I extended our hotel booking for one additional day at our own expense. But as a tour leader, I knew that one day was manageable — uncertainty was not. The financial strain was real, but the emotional responsibility weighed far more heavily. My group members were understanding and cooperative. Yet I could sense the quiet anxiety in their eyes — the same uncertainty I was feeling inside.


Finally, our local guide and I went to the Thailand Tourism office. What I witnessed there is something I will never forget. Hundreds of stranded tourists filled the office. Yet amidst the chaos, there was remarkable dignity and calmness. At the entrance, a board read:


“We are extremely sorry for what is happening in Thailand currently, and we solicit your cooperation in this matter. As a gesture, we are providing free water and snacks to all at this office, & we will help you arrange your stay in the Kingdom of Thailand. Kindly contact the guest relations officer.”


And true to those words, water bottles and snacks were arranged for all.


When we approached the Guest Relations desk, they checked our tickets and handed us an official letter. They told us to present it at any 3-star or 4-star hotel in Thailand. The government would bear the entire cost of stay and meals. No hotel could refuse us.


I reconfirmed, almost in disbelief. They calmly assured us — whatever the political situation, tourists would not be allowed to suffer.


In that moment, I felt something shift inside me—from fear to gratitude.


(The writer is a travel enthusiast. Views personal.)

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